Royladdin and the Fullmetal Genie
by Destined To Repeat
Summary: In which Roy gets a shock, three wishes, and an inconvenient baby-sitting job. Turns out taking care of just one brat of a genie- especially one with a price on his head- is harder than it sounds.... AU.
1. Entrances

Dimly in the dusty, gloomy ruins of the room, Roy Mustang could tell that the entrance to the Central Library had been completely blocked off. There was no way they were going out the way they came in.

Roy groaned, rubbing his aching head as he stumbled to his feet, and looked around blearily. Shelves of books had been completely overturned, their books splayed erratically over the floor and tables. The light fixtures hung lopsidedly, but that was nothing compared to the desks, which were entirely upside down; and in the middle of it all was Roy and the still-unconscious Havoc.

With one disdainful glance in the general direction of his subordinate, the Colonel wiped himself off and began to look for another exit.

There were some small windows high on the walls, but none that looked big enough to squeeze through…Roy looked around doubtfully, realizing suddenly just how enclosed they were. Coughing a little from the dust in the air, he kneeled down again and tried shaking Havoc awake.

"Hmm? Ngh…Ah—huh?" the Lieutenant mumbled, his arms flailing in half-asleep confusion.

"So glad you decided to join us in the world of the living, Havoc," Mustang commented wryly. He pointed at the door and the bookshelves that were currently in its way. "It looks like that old weirdo was totally insane after all. He ended up just trashing the entire library and running off with that milk bottle he kept babbling about. Most likely we'll find him keeled over dead in an alley later tonight. In the meantime, we should probably find a way out of here…"

Havoc blinked groggily at him, his eyes focusing slowly as he took in the demolished library, the Colonel, and the news. "No, he didn't," he croaked finally.

Roy, who had been muttering to himself about how with his luck, this whole escapade would be blamed on him, looked down at Havoc, one eyebrow raised. "He didn't _what?_ He didn't go crazy, or he didn't trash the library?" He sighed. "Maybe you're going crazy too, Havoc."

Jean Havoc propped himself up on his elbows and gave his superior officer a glare. "No, I mean, he didn't get that get that milk bottle."

Roy stared. "Huh?"

Grinning, the Lieutenant reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, empty milk bottle—the same one that the old codger had been cackling over.

Roy felt an irresistible grin tugging at his own lips. "When did you—?"

"Right before he brought the library down," Havoc snickered back. Mustang stared at the stolen object in overjoyed disbelief. And then the two soldiers looked up at each other and burst out laughing.

Roy got himself under control first and took the bottle from him, breathless from laughing. "We should drown it in the river," he gasped, feeling like a high school kid trying to pull off a prank.

"I wonder what that guy will do when he finds out that I took it?" Jean Havoc asked in between giggles.

"I'll bet he'll go something like this." Roy bent over and said in a high, crackly voice, "Curse those insolent whippersnappers! _Now_ how am I supposed to get my daily dose of calcium?!"

The Lieutenant was pounding the floor with his fist, trying to smother his laughter with his hand and not succeeding. "W-w-we should be a-ashamed of o-ourselves…We've just d-deprived an old man his calcium and p-protein…"

"But wait, our sin goes even further!" Roy Mustang declared, one hand held up as he studied the nutrition facts on the back of the container. "We also deprived him of vitamin A, palmitate, vitamin D-3…and…wait a minute, there's something else at the bottom here…"

Havoc looked over his shoulder, watching Roy scrape away the solidified milk staining the bottom of the tab. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why are you touching that stuff? That old guy probably drooled it…"

The Colonel gave him a look, but continued scraping it. "Hold on, there's something written down here…I almost got it…"

As he worked at the stain, unnoticed by the colonel, the bottle began to glow softly, the milky white turning into a sort of luminescent blue. Jean's eyes widened, and he tugged on his superior officer's sleeve to warn him, but before he could get a single word out, there was a huge explosion of bright-blue energy, and both of them were slammed back against the overturned desk.

"What…sort of power is that? Magic?"

"Not magic," Roy said tersely, his eyes never leaving the source of the blast of energy. "Alchemy."

As the light dimmed and their eyes adjusted, they got into more workable positions, Havoc's hand going to his gun as Mustang's went to his gloves.

…And immediately stopped short at the sight of a small blonde boy sitting cross-legged on the table in front of them, his long hair in a braid down his back and a red coat swirling over the edge of the desk. He scowled at them, looking very displeased with the fact that he was even in front of them.

"I'm surprised you knew it was alchemy," he said to Roy, as if Havoc wasn't even worth noticing. Jean Havoc made a little noise of indignation.

"Well, I would," Roy Mustang replied, still in a crouch. "I'm an alchemist myself."

"Hmph," the boy muttered, his scowl deepening. "The first Master I have in years and he's an _alchemist._ This is going to be a _blast_."

"Master?" the Colonel asked. He let himself relax a little. It didn't look like this boy was going to be any threat to them.

"That's right. Oh, goodie, now I get to do my little introduction." The blonde jumped gracefully off the desk, landing lightly in front of Havoc and Mustang and bowing somewhat resentfully. "My name is the Fullmetal Genie, and I'm here to grant you any three wishes you desire."


	2. Exits

--Concerning the pairings of this story: Sorry, Hostile Silence, it's not going to be officially yaoi... The truth is, I rarely ever do pairings at all. I'll often hint at different ships, sometimes even contradicting ships in the same story, so that the reader can infer out of the story what they want, but romance is a territory I haven't much delved into (It's also a territory that can be done _so badly)_ so I tend to skirt around it. There will be pretty obvious hints of Ed/Winry, and even more obvious hints of Roy/Riza, but I still think that there is enough Roy-and-Ed interaction (and I usually drop hints in both Parental!Roy/Ed and Roy/Ed directions, nothing close to explicit either way, but as far as their characters allow) for the average Roy/Ed fan to enjoy this story. Also, I spent tons of time developing and redeveloping this plot, so if all else fails, you could read it for that ;) Thank you so much to all the readers and reviewers!  
And on to part two :D

* * *

"Any three…What?" Havoc said, his finger still on the trigger of his handgun.

"Wishes, moron. _Wishes,"_ the genie replied. It seemed to Mustang that the boy was trying to be polite, and this was the result.

He motioned for his subordinate to relax. "Explain yourself. What exactly are you? And what do you mean by 'wishes?'"

"Well... Ali-Baba had his forty thieves, Scheherazade had a thousand tales…." He stopped, and scowled at the two officers. "You know what, stew this." With a wave of his hand that looked like it was meant to brush away a fly, the blonde dropped the rehearsed speech and reverted to ad-libbing. "I'm a genie, noun, a spirit created from the Gate of Equivalent Exchange, that has supernatural alchemic powers and will obey the command of any person(s) from which it is summoned. 'Zat definition good enough for you? 'Cause I really don't want to go into the whole song-and-dance routine."

Havoc seemed to be digesting this much better than Roy was. Or maybe he was shock. "So we could ask you _anything_ and you would do it?"

"With a couple exceptions. For instance, you can't ask me to kill anyone directly, although you _can_ ask me to put poison in their cup of coffee or some-odd. You can't ask me to make anyone fall in love with you. And you can't ask for more wishes." He pulled a worn, red notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open, looking entirely unconcerned as he glanced at them from over the pages. "So what'll it be?"

"Well, I want to be the richest person in the world, for starters-" Havoc began immediately. "What?" he demanded, as both Mustang and the genie turned to look at him.

"I was talking to _him,"_ the boy said irritably, and pointed at the Colonel. "Only one Master at a time. Moron."

"Hey, but I was the one who got the bottle from that old guy…" Jean's protest trailed off as he turned that thought over in his head. "That crazy old man knew about the genie," he said slowly.

Roy caught onto his line of rationale. "The chance to have any three wishes granted would be a very valuable advantage to anyone, especially someone as desperate as that man had looked. I suppose that means that he wasn't as crazy as we thought he was."

"Or _we've_ gone equally insane," Havoc put in helpfully. Roy glared at him.

"Look, are you going to make a wish or not?" said the genie, annoyed. "As amusing as I'm sure you think this is, I have no interest in spending the rest of my life waiting for you to decide what your wishes are going to be."

Getting fed up with both of them, Roy turned to the genie and snapped, "So why don't you just go back inside your bottle? …Or whatever it is you live in."

He didn't reply at first, gritting his teeth and staring at his new Master for a few seconds before muttering, "I can't go until you dismiss me."

"Seriously? Isn't that- you know- sort of unpleasant?"

"It's not voluntary," the boy hissed. "It's part of the genie contract."

Roy blinked. "That…was a rhetorical question." The colonel blinked again as the blonde groaned.

"I know that, stu—_Master,"_ he corrected in a reluctant, excessively respectful voice. "I'm also not allowed to ignore direct questions."

"Stinks to be you," said Havoc, while Roy asked, "Or else what?"

The Fullmetal Genie opened his mouth and then stopped. He closed it and swallowed, and Roy noticed that his right hand seemed to clench convulsively. The silence stretched into uneasy gridlock as Havoc glanced back and forth between them and Mustang leveled a fixed, steady gaze at his new servant. The Colonel knew that the boy had no choice but to answer, and evidently the genie understood it too, because before Roy could ask again he mumbled, "There's a punishment for disobedient genies."

"That's not a very good answer," Mustang commented softly, watching the blonde stiffen.

"Boss," said Havoc uneasily.

"Are you afraid of him?" Roy asked, almost contemptuously. "He _exists_ to serve people, remember? And right now he's serving me. Ahh, this is going to be _great_....."

Jean Havoc stared at Roy as if he'd never seen him clearly before. The genie, who had been slowly clenching and unclenching his fists, let out a breath and told Havoc, "Everybody gets like this. Doesn't matter how ethical and respectable they are—the minute they realize that they can have everything they want, they turn into power-hungry maniacs." He shot a disgusted gaze Mustang's way, which the Colonel caught. But instead of looking away, ashamed of himself, the blonde met his eyes unblinkingly, defiance in his set jaw and unwavering expression. "So, what'll it be?" he said sardonically. "A country? A castle made out of gold? A harem? How about all three? At least then we can get this over with quickly."

Roy watched him silently, not bothering to interrupt. He didn't insist that he was different, that _he_ wasn't going to be a power-hungry maniac. He just listened, and then smiled slightly, as if the boy's rant amused him. And then he remarked, "Such big words for such a shrimp. I'll bet after all that showing off, you can't even implement any of my wishes. Are you really expecting me to believe that a tiny bean like you can help me at all? There's nothing to get power-hungry about. If I would choose any first wish, I would probably wish to get out of here; but then, the best I can probably get out of _you_ is a bag of pretzels, so we'll just have to find a way out by ourselves." The genie was beginning to turn a furious red, one hand fisted around the fabric of his coat. Mustang smirked and went on, "After that… well, maybe I'll just sell you to the highest bidder and see how many lottery tickets I can buy with the money. Then again, I can't see anyone paying more than five-hundred cenz for a useless genie."

The Fullmetal Genie looked like he wanted Mustang to spontaneously combust. Havoc was about to duck for cover; and that was when Roy decided to open his mouth and say the single word that would seal his own fate: "Runt."

"THAT'S _IT!" _the genie exploded, a bright gold aura of pure, raw power crackling around him. _"You are the most arrogant, insufferable JERK of a Master I've ever had! _You think I'm some sort of_ understudy genie?!"_

"N-no! He didn't mean that at all!" Jean turned desperately to his commanding officer. "Right, Chief? You didn't mean any of that!"

"If I hadn't meant it, I wouldn't have said it. This so-called Fullmetal Genie is nothing but a useless…"—the genie's alchemic energy was beginning to pulse in a thick, churning swirl of power— "…inept…" –the floor was beginning to shake— "…runt."

The library exploded in a burst of brilliant gold, lifting the two soldiers off their feet and slamming them into the wall. There was a brief, sickening sensation of vertigo, and then they tumbled, light-blind, onto ground that seemed to tilt one way and then the other before finally straightening into a sloped patch of grass.

_ …Grass?_

As soon as Roy could convince his eyes to start working again, he blinked blearily at the ground he was sprawled out on, and then at the all-but-demolished library in front of him. Havoc was groaning pathetically in front of him, and the genie was kneeling on the sidewalk, breathing hard from the amount of energy it had taken to set off the magnificent array. Roy grinned despite himself.

"That's one wish down," the boy said smugly.

"Not quite," said Roy, propping himself up with an expression very nearly as smug as the genie's. "I never actually said that I 'wished' for anything. You got us out of the library all on your own."

"Wha—That's not—You—" the blonde floundered for a coherent comeback while Mustang righted himself, a pleased smirk curling his lips. "You stupid—I—You can't—"

Colonel Mustang looked down at him and smiled innocently. "I think we'll be great friends, hmm, Fullmetal?"

This time he managed to hide behind Havoc in time for the explosion.


	3. Explanations

They slumped their way down the street once Havoc had gotten over the trauma of being flung to the ground twice in less than one hour, while the genie grumbled incoherently to himself. Mustang was mainly concentrating on getting as far away from the building as possible before the military got there—although he was still silently patting himself on the back for his brilliant (he thought) escapade.

He was also quite pleased to note that among the genie rules, following their Masters seemed to be one of them. Which was good, because he had been wondering what he was going to do if it wasn't. He wanted to talk to the kid, get some straight answers out of him, and Roy doubted that he would agree to that willingly.

The good news was, the brat didn't have to.

Roy decided that he liked having a genie. He really, truly did.

The three of them finally found a park deserted enough for the genie, far enough from the Library for Roy, and clear of No Smoking signs. Havoc, immediately satisfied, began to light up, ignoring the not-really-so-subtly coughing genie.

Mustang sat down on the only bench in sight that didn't sport a Wet Paint sign. The Fullmetal Genie lowered himself onto a swing, pushing himself slightly forward and then slightly back, keeping his eyes angrily on the dirt and away from Mustang's gaze.

"How long have you been a genie?" the Colonel asked. He _realized_ that the giddy feeling every time he ordered his new servant around meant that he had some sort of god complex, but it just felt so _good_ to— "You don't seem to be very old. Though, maybe genies are immortal…?"

The blonde glared at him. "Of course we're not immortal. Just because we're genies doesn't mean we can transgress the laws of Equivalent Exchange." His right hand suddenly twitched, and he added unwillingly, "I've been like this for four years."

"So you weren't born like that," Roy mused. "How does one become a genie anyway?"

Havoc, who had been watching with interest, recognized the signs from the Central Library when the kid didn't want to answer something, and began to slowly inch away. The Colonel, on the other hand, had clearly not yet learned his lesson. "Well?" he said, his voice crisp and formal. "I asked you a question."

The genie grit his teeth. "There's _one_ other thing that you can't wish for, and," he slowed, choosing his words carefully, "and that's to bring somebody back to life."

"Human transmutation," said Mustang.

"Right." The boy looked like he had more to say, but instead muttered simply, "The punishment for asking a genie to bring someone back to life is to become a genie yourself."

There was a very obvious, very intriguing question on the tip of Roy's tongue, just begging to be asked, but he clamped his mouth down on it and shoved it to the back of his mind—even _he_ wasn't that invasive. For now, that is.

Just as the Colonel was beginning to feel the faintest, tiniest smudges of pity for the genie and whatever he had gone through, the brat said grumpily, "Are we done with the interview yet? I'd like to actually do my job and get going. Not that I don't appreciate your company. Actually, yeah, that is the problem—it's your company. Just wish already--It's_ not_ that hard!"

Roy sighed. Okay, maybe having a genie wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. "I'm not really sure," he admitted finally. "What do _you_ think?"

The genie stared at him. He was completely speechless, his wide, golden eyes never leaving Roy's. Finally he stammered, "Nobody's ever asked me that before."

The Colonel was surprised too. "Well, how many Masters have you had? You said you were only like this for four years."

"About…eleven, maybe twelve?" The blonde shrugged as Roy's eyebrows rose. "It's like you said, after they're done with their three wishes, if they haven't gone completely insane and started begging for more, they sell me off to the next, equally corrupt Master. My last Master hid my bottle before he was killed, though, so I haven't been out for about three years…."

This boded rather ominous with both of the soldiers. Havoc grimaced. "Does that happen often? That your Masters either go insane or die?"

"Oh, yeah," the genie replied easily. "I've never had a Master that didn't."

Havoc shivered, but Roy stretched out on the bench, unconcerned. "I'll be setting a precedent then."

"If you say so," the genie rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Roy rejoined, ignoring him. "You never answered my question. What would _you_ wish for?"

To his surprise, the blonde fiddled with his long braid and blushed slightly. "Umm… I guess I would wish to be a normal human being again. And after that I would wish to find Al…"

"Al?" Havoc asked, joining Mustang on the bench.

"My little brother," he clarified. He ducked his head even lower, but Roy could still see the embarrassed flush on his ears. "I…I mean, I…became a genie for him…and now I just want to find him again, if I can…."

"What do you mean, became a genie for him?" Roy asked, now fully attentive. "You mean that he asked a genie to bring someone back to life?"

"Not just him," said the boy, looking up again. "Both of us did. It took us nearly a year to find a genie to _do_ it, and then…" He blew a long breath out. "We just wanted to see our mother again…."

Roy studied the genie carefully, the small, unfamiliar wisps of sympathy creeping up on him again. "Then both of you are genies now?"

The Fullmetal Genie shook his head. "No, we only asked for one person to be brought back to life, so the Gate only needed one of us." He looked squarely at the Colonel, the old stubbornness back in his expression. "Of course, I'm the one who should take this responsibility, as the older brother. It's totally worth it—the new name, the whole genie thing—as long as Al can be happy."

For the first time since they'd met, Roy smiled. "It sounds like you really love him a lot."

The blonde blushed again and muttered, "Yeah. I guess I do."

"Well. Anyway." The officer leaned back casually, as if the last few seconds had never happened. "I think I'm going to wish for a few promotions, if you know what I mean." He and Havoc shared a brief grin.

And the genie was back to his usual bad-tempered self. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that? Half the military is vying to get Fuhrer, so why not just wish your way up? Nice to know that everyone in our military is just as crooked as they seem to be."

"I'm not going to wish myself up to Fuhrer," Mustang interjected offhandedly. "That's unfair for the people. I would probably wish myself to Brigadier-General, maybe, and then work up from there with my own power."

The genie looked at him through long, thick bangs and finally pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Why do you care so much? Do you really need to be Fuhrer?"

"Yes," said Havoc and Mustang at once.

When the blonde stayed silent, prompting them to continue, Jean sighed. "You probably don't remember, but about seven years ago there was a war in the East called the Ishval War—"

"Of course I know about it." The Genie frowned. "I was eight, not _two._ One of my friends lost both her parents in the Ishval War."

He bowed his head slightly in apology. "The Chief is going to make sure that something like that _never_ happens again. So he's going to be Fuhrer no matter what—even if we have to kick down a few passersby on the way."

"Are you sure it's quite…_advisable_ to be telling him all of this?" Roy hissed. Jean nudged him in response.

"Well, either way, he knows now. Besides, I'll bet one of the genie rules is to not tell your Master's secrets."

The Fullmetal Genie scowled. "He's right. It is."

Jean Havoc leaned back, a smug look on his face. Roy shot him a half-glare.

And then, like a realization, like a shutter closing, the expression slid into one more professional. "Equivalent exchange," he said to the genie, so nonchalantly that the boy was immediately suspicious.

"What do you mean, 'equivalent exchange?'" he asked warily.

"You know all about my motives," the black-haired man said simply, with the air of someone holding all the right cards. "Now it's only fair that you tell me about yours."

"I've already told you everything!" he cried, exasperated. "What else could you _possibly_ want to know?"

"The punishment." The piercing gaze was back, Roy's voice once again impervious and perfectly calm. The genie flinched. "For defying the rules. You know what I'm talking about. I could ask it in a question and force you to answer, or you could tell me willingly. Your turn, Fullmetal."

There was a hard, angry expression on the genie's face, but this time it was directed at the ground. His fingers lingered for a moment over the sleeve of his coat, and then slowly pulled it off, revealing metal where the arm should have been. The fingers flexed, creaking uncertainly in the silence.

"Automail?" Havoc asked, unable to keep the horrified edge out of his voice.

"Fullmetal," the Colonel said sharply, almost like he was… angry? "How many times have you violated the rules?"

"Twice," he mumbled, barely audible.

"And?"

There was another long, uneasy pause and then: "My leg."

"I see."

Nobody spoke for a very long time. Havoc wanted to break the silence with something witty, like he was good at, but there was an unyielding aura around the Colonel, and the air was so tense that it seemed like any joke he would crack would get crushed by the pressure.

"Fullmetal." It was Roy that finally broke the silence. The genie looked up. "What's your real name?"

The blonde smiled, somewhat bitterly. "I don't have one. Once you become a genie, your name is replaced with a title. Fullmetal, in my case."

"But you must have had a name before that," Mustang insisted, his voice growing louder.

"I did. But I don't remember it." The park fell silent. "Nobody does after they become a genie."

There was an even longer pause than before; but this time nobody spoke, not because they were afraid to voice their thoughts, but because there was nothing left to say. Havoc scratched the back of his head and put out his cigarette, dropping the butt into an ashtray next to the bench. "It must be nice to be out of that bottle after three years," he murmured.

The boy that used to have a name smiled and said, "Yeah. It is."


	4. Preparations

Roy Mustang didn't know the first thing about genies. Sure, he got the whole three wishes thing, but the rest of it was distressingly uncertain. Did he sleep in a bed or in the bottle? Did genies eat? Did they need to go to the bathroom? Did they get hot and cold? Were there things to do for his automail? When they got home to his apartment, all the questions he'd never even considered slapped him in the face. The colonel couldn't quite bring himself to ask the kid himself, so he just told him to go back into the bottle, since he seemed to do pretty well in there for three years. Fullmetal muttered a reply that could've been "'kay" and disappeared in a flash of blue. The bottle glowed eerily for a few seconds before fading back down. Looking at it now, it was hard to believe that Roy had ever thought it was a normal milk bottle.

Mustang shook his head and made his way to his bedroom, vaguely wondering what would turn up tomorrow.

* * *

He woke up chuckling at the ridiculous dream he'd had. All about a genie…and the Library…and Havoc was in it, and something with a milk bottle…. He laughed all the way to the kitchen, where he caught sight of an old, crusty milk bottle and abruptly stopped laughing.

He stood frozen in the middle of the room, stunned, and then slowly, _slowly_ lowered himself into a chair.

"Uh," he said.

He touched the alchemic circle at the back of the tag almost impulsively, too shell-shocked to even blink as the energy burst into his kitchen and then ebbed away, leaving a wide-awake blonde teenager on his counter.

"Something you want?" the boy asked and, for just one moment, forgetting to be his usual, perpetually grumpy self, blinked curiously at the room like he'd never seen a kitchen before. His hair was down around his shoulders, but the rest of his outfit was still in place. So genies _don't_ sleep.

The fact that some of his questions were finding answers, however minor, rallied him somewhat, and Roy sat slightly straighter and said, "I'm going to work."

"Okay," said the blonde.

"I'll put my first wish into action there, so you'll have to come with me."

"Okay."

"It'll look unusual if I'm walking into Headquarters with anyone out of uniform, so—"

"No worries," he replied, flapping a hand in his direction. "I've posed as a soldier before."

Roy stopped. He had been about to suggest that they smuggle him in, but this one was a much better alternative. "You have? Well, then this ought to be easy. Havoc will be picking us up."

The boy jumped off the counter. His black-and-red was transformed into blue and gold and a very (almost disconcertingly) legitimate-looking military uniform before he hit the floor. The Colonel blinked in amazement. "Ask what size the uniform is and I'll throttle you," the genie threatened. Roy put his hands up in a peaceful gesture, although his lips curled into an irrepressible smirk. Back-and-forth threatening he could definitely deal with.

Roy plugged his coffee-maker into the wall and went back down the hall to change. "Don't touch anything," he called over his shoulder.

"Is that a wish?" the blonde yelled back hopefully.

"Absolutely not. I've got big plans for those wishes," came the muffled reply.

"Of course you do," sighed the genie, who had clearly heard it all before.

Eventually he came back, fully dressed and running a hand through his hair, just in time to see the genie finishing off a bowl of cereal. "I thought I told you not to touch anything."

"You did," the genie replied, through a mouthful of Roy's food. "But it wasn't a wish, so technically I don't have to listen. I'm still not allowed to damage any of your stuff, of course…." He trailed off, closing his eyes with a blissful expression. "It's been so long since I've had real food."

Mustang watched the coffee-maker pour a slow stream of liquid into his mug. "It couldn't have been _that_ long," he said, wondering what the kid mean by "real" food.

"Well, about…three and a half years," the blonde replied. He seemed to be enjoying the loud, rather obnoxious crunching noises he was making; Roy noticed that he hadn't used any milk.

When the coffee-maker stopped, the colonel took a sip from the mug and frowned at his new servant. "So genies need to eat but they don't need to sleep?" He paused. "And if you didn't have to eat for three and a half years, why are you stealing my food now?"

The blonde scowled. "I'm not _stealing_ it, it was just sitting there so I took it." Mustang raised his eyebrows, but before he could remind the genie that that was exactly what stealing was, the boy said, "When I'm in the bottle, I don't have to eat or sleep. Well, more like I _can't _eat or sleep. Besides. It's considered good manners to feed your guests, riiight?"

Roy couldn't help but privately wonder why the genie expected good manners from Roy when_ he_ was an insubordinate little brat. Meanwhile, the brat in question was looking at Roy's coffee hopefully. "Can I…?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." The Colonel blinked and set a second mug in the coffee-maker. "So if you stayed outside the bottle for a long time, you'd need food and sleep like any other human being?" When the mug was full, Roy handed it to the genie, who took it happily. Roy frowned. "Is it really so exciting to be able to eat?"

"Yes!" the blonde said immediately, his head shooting up. He looked at Roy accusingly. "You take it for granted because you eat all the time, but when you're a genie you can't eat unless you're outside. So whenever I'm outside I try to eat as much as I can…." The boy stopped, then sipped the coffee as if he was holding a cup of the most precious wine. He continued slowly, "For the three years I was stuck inside the bottle…well…it wasn't like I was in pain or anything. I wasn't hungry, or tired, or uncomfortable…."

The Colonel waited, watching the genie drink more of the coffee. Finally Fullmetal said, "That's the worst part about being a genie. Until you're released, you can't feel anything—I've only dreamed about being tired or hungry. All I feel instead is a sort of…itchy feeling in my stomach."

"An itchy feeling?" Roy Mustang repeated, one eyebrow raised.

The blonde scowled. "I know it sounds stupid but it's the only way to describe it. It's like…the absence of feeling. It's weird. And sort of scary, at first." The boy fell silent, drinking the coffee with a troubled expression, and Roy didn't particularly feel like dealing with a depressed genie at that very moment.

"Well, you should have said so," the officer said, sighing. "I have a spare room that you can stay in if you'd rather sleep. If you want, you can stay outside your bottle all day—it doesn't make a difference to me."

The genie looked up at him, eyes wide and hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. The boy opened his mouth to reply—but he was suddenly cut off by a car horn honking loudly outside. Both of them turned to the source of the sound, pulled abruptly back into reality. "Must be Havoc," said Mustang, recovering quickly. He snatched the bottle off the kitchen table and put it in his uniform pocket. "Ready to go?"

The genie scowled, all the former gratitude on his face long gone. "Like I have a choice, _Master_."

Roy pretended that that was a polite "yes, and you?" and off the two of them went. The blonde clambered down the steps into Havoc's car ahead of the Colonel, glancing at the older man balefully when he reached the car slightly later, as if Roy couldn't possibly go any slower.

Mustang rolled his eyes. _Kids._

Havoc looked very much like how Roy had felt that morning, as though he had hoped that the whole genie business was a dream. Roy sympathized—he knew that the lieutenant was probably bursting with questions. But all Havoc said was "Hey, Chief." He then glanced at the genie, clearly wondering what he was supposed to call him.

"Kid," Jean said finally. "Nice uniform," he added, a slow grin growing around his cigarette.

"Hey," said the genie, raising his automail hand in greeting.

"Aren't we already late?" Roy interjected. He was starting to feel slightly on edge, like a child about to play a prank on a teacher. Havoc turned immediately back to the wheel without a retort; probably he felt the same way, Roy mused.

The ride to Central command was silent, but not uncomfortably so, as all three of the group were lost in their own thoughts. Jean stared ahead at the road as he drove with an attentiveness that was highly uncharacteristic of the lieutenant. The genie watched the scenery fly outside the window, his chin rested on his flesh hand and a pensive look on his (still a little uncomfortably) young face. Mustang was running his plan over in his head, considering his choice of words and what his next move would be if everything went according to plan. He didn't know if genies tried to trick their Masters into wishing too literally, but he didn't want to chance it—although he had a feeling that this particular genie was a bit too blunt and impatient to attempt such fine deception.

They seemed to arrive at Headquarters much too quickly. Mustang got out of the car mostly out of habit, and the genie climbed out from the other door, walking around the car to Roy as Havoc gestured to the street. "I'll meet you after I park," he said, looking calmer after the silent car ride. The colonel nodded, and the car went off down the street.

Roy turned and headed through the large wooden doors into Central Headquarters, past the guards (his heart sped up slightly), hearing the boy's footsteps trailing behind him. As soon as they were a good ways into the building, Colonel Mustang lowered his voice and said, "Fullmetal, can you do this as surreptitiously as possible?—wait, never mind, I'll put it in the wish." Roy paused. The blonde looked at him, eyebrows high, waiting, patient and utterly uninterested. "I wish that I would be called in by Fuhrer King Bradley in exactly thirty seconds, and that in this meeting, the Fuhrer would only promote me to Brigadier-General; and that all this would be done in as outwardly typical method as possible."

The genie grimaced at him, and Roy knew he'd had no need for his careful wording. "You could just say that you want to get Brigadier-General, you know." And with a rather rude roll of his eyes, the blonde clapped his hands together. Immediately the Colonel felt the change in atmosphere; the air seemed uncomfortably warm, the oxygen suddenly not enough to keep him breathing properly. The hallway seemed to be glowing strangely, but that could have been because of the dizziness. Then all at once the hall was returned to normal. The atmosphere shifted back so quickly that Roy felt off-balance again. He shut his eyes, ignoring his swimming head.

The genie sounded chagrined. "Yeah, that happens when you try to compress the alchemy's natural energy. It makes the transmutation effects less noticeable, but turns everything in the immediate area loopy for a few seconds. Your own fault for wishing it, I guess."

Mustang opened his eyes. "Then you've—?"

But before he could finish his sentence, a captain appeared around the corner. Both Roy and the genie fell silent. The officer approached Mustang and saluted respectfully. Then he said calmly, "The Fuhrer has requested to speak with you." The captain glanced at the genie and added, "Privately."

It took all of Roy Mustang's carefully-constructed self-control to keep his voice level. "Very well."

He utterly couldn't help the wide, delighted grin he shot over his shoulder at the genie; and the blonde—looking slightly stunned—grinned haltingly back.


	5. Promotions

Once Mustang was out of sight, the genie followed after them, being careful to stay at least a hallway's width away from the officers. He physically couldn't be so far away from his bottle. Just being this far was making him feel sick, his stomach nauseous and aching. The blonde scowled at how weak he was being and continued scurrying after his new Master. When they reached the Fuhrer's office, the genie stayed at the nearest corner, trying to look like he belonged there, and Roy and the lieutenant went inside.

As the genie waited, he thought about what Colonel Mustang's last two wishes would be, and found that he couldn't really predict. This Master was strange, that was sure. Mustang was rude and downright evil at certain times, but he also seemed to be genuinely concerned about some things—the Fullmetal Genie remembered with a rush of embarrassed happiness that the Colonel had talked to him like any normal person. Not a servant. And Havoc had called him "kid." The blonde ducked his head to hide his blush, angry at himself for being so happy about something so stupid.

"Is this the kid you were talking about?" a voice that was so nearby that the genie jumped in surprise. A man slightly older than Mustang was peering down at him over his glasses. Havoc was next to him, looking apprehensive. "So who are you?" the older man asked cheerfully.

The genie tried to remember what rank he had made himself without looking down at his uniform insignia. Finally he guessed, "Major...uh…Curtis?"

"Really? A major? How did I miss a teenage major?" the man frowned. "Maybe I'm slipping."

"Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes, you're freaking him out," Havoc sighed. The smoker turned to the Fullmetal Genie. "This is Maes Hughes. He's in Investigations, so he knows everything."

The newly-dubbed Major Curtis nodded warily. "Are you under Colonel Mustang's command too?"

"That's right!" said Hughes. "And you're under…?"

"He's with the Boss too," said Havoc. The genie was impressed by how easily the lieutenant built up his cover story.

"Really?" the Lieutenant-Colonel repeated, even more surprised. "And Roy didn't introduce us? Hmm… he's asking for punishment."

The boy wondered at how casually Hughes referred to the Colonel. "I was just hired yesterday…sir," he said. If he was a major, and this Hughes was a Lieutenant-Colonel, and both were under Mustang, that would make Hughes his superior officer. He had to remember to act like a soldier.

The lieutenant-colonel waved his attempt away. "Never mind that. Call me Hughes."

"Uh…okay… Hughes…."

"So, what do you think of Roy?" Hughes asked, grinning.

The genie paused. "I think he's a manipulative jerk who enjoys making his subordinates suffer. He's a control freak, and he's far too arrogant for his own good." The blonde thought for a moment, then added, "He makes himself out to be worse than he is, I think. I wonder why that is?"

Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes stared at him, and then finally, he laughed. "No wonder Roy hired you." The man ruffled the boy's gold-blond hair good-naturedly, and the genie pulled away, startled.

Hughes stopped, studying the boy for a moment before his thoughtful expression melted once again into a smile. "Did you know that Roy's an alchemist?"

"Yeah," said the blonde, realizing after a moment that he didn't know much else about the soon-to-be-General. "I've never seen him do anything though…He seems to be the type to refuse to degrade himself by drawing an array like normal alchemists, either way."

Hughes laughed again, and this time Havoc grinned too. "Well, you're right about the array part," said Havoc. He was busy lighting another cigarette. "The boss has these special gloves that he can use to create fire—I won't bore you with the mechanics—but basically, all he has to do is snap his fingers" –the lieutenant demonstrated— "and he can adjust the oxygen in the air to make flames."

The genie blinked, surprised that the arrogant Colonel had mastered such a difficult technique. He had heard of fire alchemy, but he'd never seen it put into action because of the skill it required.

"Hey, speaking of which, you also don't use arrays to do alchemy, don't you?" said Havoc thoughtfully. Hughes looked overjoyed.

"He's an alchemist too?"

"Sort of?" said the teenager doubtfully, wondering if genies fell under the category of alchemists. _They certainly can do alchemy, but…_

Hughes opened his mouth, and the genie feverishly searched for an answer to the question he knew was coming up—"What do you mean by 'sort of'?"—when the door to the Fuhrer's office opened behind them, and all three of them fell silent, watching Mustang appear.

Roy closed the office door behind him and walked calmly over to the men (and one genie) waiting at the end of the hall. Havoc worried his cigarette between his fingers anxiously, and Hughes raised his eyebrows, shooting Roy a questioning look. The Flame Alchemist stopped in front of them, his expression blank as ever.

"It seems that the Fuhrer has at last realized my value after all." His voice was calm, but one corner of his mouth twitched; Havoc hastily stuffed the cigarette back between his lips, resisting the urge to laugh.

Hughes's eyebrows went up even more. "You don't mean…?" There was a distinct edge to his voice, very much akin to excitement.

Mustang didn't reply, just not-smiled some more, and the genie got the impression that the Colonel—no, not a Colonel anymore—wanted nothing more than to jump up and down with glee. The genie almost laughed himself—it was a nice feeling, if not an unfamiliar one, being appreciated like this. Well, okay, he wasn't being appreciated directly, but that was fine. Servitude for all eternity didn't seem so bad when it made good people (or somewhat-okay people, in Mustang's case) genuinely happy. It seemed almost worthwhile, actually. Almost.

"Lieutenant-General?" said Hughes, amazed.

"Brigadier," said Mustang, and the huge grin escaped for half a second before he got it back under control.

Hughes wasn't even trying to control his smile. "And the others…?"

"Still mine," said Roy. The genie frowned. Was he talking about other officers? Or his subordinates? "As long as they'll follow me, that is," he added.

Havoc laughed. He sounded just as excited as the other officers. "_Agree?_ Falman will have a _heart attack_. In a good way," he explained to the teenager, who looked at him doubtfully.

"Breda will be totally shocked, but act like he'd seen it coming years ago," said Hughes. Havoc and Mustang laughed. The genie watched them quietly, smiling slightly from off to the side, although his chest was starting to hurt.

"Fuery will be blushing and stammering all week," said Mustang, grinning. "He won't be able to do anything properly. And Lieutenant Hawkeye…."

He trailed off, and Hughes watched him, amused, until Roy snapped back into reality and glared at him. The lieutenant-colonel shrugged unrepentantly. "If you're so excited about telling them, why not go now?"

To the genie's surprise, the newly-minted General's cheeks reddened slightly. "I was just about to do that," he retorted defiantly. He stomped off down the hall, and the two blondes followed him, Hughes laughter trailing behind.


End file.
